Sukuna: The Last Sorcerer 17B (Patreon)

The summons came an hour later. 

Three heavy percussive hits against the solid wood of his door.

Not even a full hour after the princess had left him alone and taken her creepy smile with her, the interruption rang through from the other side of his door.

The guard outside didn’t even wait for an answer, simply announcing in a monotone as flat as they came that the Fire Lord requested his presence — his immediate presence — in the throne room.Ryo pushed himself off the edge of his bed, bare soles kissing the cold floor. Yeah, saw this coming. Azula’s little knowledge drop only made it more clear, honestly. When shit hit the fan this hard, the people at the top had to look like they were doing something, which meant everyone got called in for the damage control meeting. What I get for letting Azula make my ass important.

He opened his closet, staring at the clothes the servants had filled the space with. High-collared outfits tstared back at him in the exact same black and red the whole entire country had a giant hard-on for. I mean… He grabbed the fabric, material soft under his fingers. I don’t hate the colors. 

It was just so… restrictive.

On top of that, ever since the new training Sukuna had him under, his skin was just running so much hotter than normal. Like a chronic fever or something, except for the fact that he didn’t feel sick, pretty much, the cursed energy rotating in his gut made his entire body radiate heat nonstop. Adding layers of tight clothes on top of that made it go from annoying to suffocating.

But Azula already had an attitude about him walking the palace halls without a shirt last week, lecturing him about decorum blah blah blah blah. 

Whatever. Not wearing shoes though. A man had to have standards, after all.

The walk to the throne room was a blur of empty red hallways and guards standing too stiffly. By the time the massive double doors were pushed open for him, the silk was already sticking uncomfortably to the middle of his back.

Huh. Red eyes blinked at the throne room, the whole vibe of the place completely different tonight.

Usually, the massive hall was packed tight with people; some wrinkly minister bumping elbows with a Fire Sage in a tall hat or a general covered in pointy armor. No matter where you looked, there was some old man in some sort of weird outfit, pretty much. 

Tonight, though, the place was emptier than Ryo had ever seen it. 

Granted, he’d only seen it twice before, but still…

There was no one lingering by the pillars, no guard standing at attention or even a servant whispering in the corners. The only thing there to focus on was the massive wall of fire roaring behind the platform as it went on full-blast, throwing dancing shadows everywhere.

Smart of them. Ryo’s bare feet were silent as he walked further into the room towards the only two occupants. Nobody smart wants to be in the splash zone when Fire Daddy’s having a bad day.

Ozai sat there up on the platform, the ruler of the Fire Nation looking more like a statue carved out of pure uncut ego than anything else. The man didn’t move a single muscle as Ryo neared him, golden eyes locked onto stome invisible point at the back of the room.

Azula was already there kneeling at the base of the steps, posture perfect and her head bowed so low she was staring at her own knees. Ryo slowed and came to a stop a good six or seven steps behind her, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Azula.”The word dropped from Ozai’s mouth, resonating against the floor and vibrating against the walls. “Father.”

“Your thoughts on the Northern Water Tribe debacle.”

“A setback, father, and nothing more.” Azula didn’t raise her head but her voice was unwavering, crisp and clear without a single stutter. “The failures of the late admiral do not reflect on the strength of the Fire Nation, merely on his own staggering arrogance and pathetic inadequacy.”

“Indeed.” The word dropped into the silence, the crackle of the massive flames behind him filling the silence. “And your uncle? Your brother? What of their ‘inadequacies’?”

Ryo watched the side of Azula's face, unsurprised to see the corner of her mouth twitch upwards as she heard the question. “I would not presume to judge their actions. Not without full and proper knowledge of the circumstances, Father.”  It was a small, sharp thing, the same predator smile she wore in his room regarding the same topic. “I only know that they were present, and they failed.”

Translation: I absolutely cannot wait to throw them under the bus, but I’m gonna let you drive it over them first.

Ozai’s gaze finally shifted, those golden eyes breaking away from the back wall and dropping down directly onto Ryo as they met eyes. It took actual effort to keep his jaw relaxed and not scowl back at the guy. It’s sad you think this does anything to me.

He’d spent too long drowning in a blood ocean, used as a punching bag by a four-armed demon god, to be anything close to scared of a dude sitting in a fancy chair. Add some goat skulls to that thing first, and we’ll see.

“Lord Ryo.” It’s funny how he made that sound like an insult, unwilling to make much of a fuss in private over Ryo’s refusal to bow. “Your assessment of the Avatar’s capabilities.”

Ryo blinked, fighting the immediate urge to just shrug at the stupid pop quiz for some guy he’d never even met. His arms uncrossed, hanging loose as they dropped to his sides. “Strong… I mean, I guess?” He tilted his head to the side, pulling a face. “Real talk, everyone here is clear on the fact I’ve never met the guy, but if he really sank you guy’s whole fleet, I mean… well, damn, right?”

That was an understatement of this whole century-long war if there ever was one. Ryo was still trying to run the math in his head on how a twelve-year old even pulled that one off. He knew the Avatar was an airbender, even if he was the last one. 

Firebending didn’t seem all that strong. I mean, it was deadly, but not ‘you sunk my battleship’ type of powerful. So what, did the kid just fly right over the fleet and drop giant air bombs on them or something? Maybe whip up a deep-sea hurricane and flip them over like bath toys or something?…shit, that sounds cool as hell.

Ozai’s expression didn’t change but something cold flickered behind the fire-man’s eyes anyway as he kept his gaze firmly on Ryo.

“Indeed.” The Fire Lord stood up. “Which brings us to the matter at hand.”

The flames behind the man shot up higher, roaring as they surged toward the ceiling and sent the temperature sky-high with them.“Prince Iroh and Prince Zuko have been declared enemies of the Fire Nation.” Ozai turned his amber gaze down, pretending at a sadness Ryo knew he didn’t feel. “As a loving father and brother, it pains me to do this but needs must. Their actions at the North Pole, whether through catastrophic incompetence or outright treachery, have stained the honor of this nation. They will be brought back to face judgement.”

Oh, shit. Here it comes.“Azula…” Ozai’s gaze landed on the top of his daughter’s head. “You will be sent to retrieve your uncle and brother both. Whatever resources you require, you will receive.”

“Of course, father.” Azula dipped her head even lower, the eagerness in her voice undisguised. “I am honored by your absolute trust.”

“And of course, the Lord Avatar will accompany you.”

The words hit the air and just hung there as Ryo’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth ground together. Dark chi flared in his stomach again, wrapping around his ribs in time with the beat of his heart. Coolcoolcool, love being treated like a pibble that needs walkies.

For one long, terrible second, he almost said it. 

The word No sat right there on the very tip of his tongue, bubbling up with all the spite and leftover malice that Sukuna had cut, sliced, smashed, and burnt into his soul.

But out of the corner of his eye, he caught Azula’s eyes; the warning in her stare absolute.

Don’t be a complete idiot. Ryo swallowed the dark energy back down, forcing the tension out of his shoulders with a slow, heavy exhale. “Sure.” He forced the corners of his mouth up into a lazy smirk that didn't reach his eyes. “Sounds like fun.”

Translation: kill yourself. 

Ozai ust nodded once, already staring past them again. “You are to leave at dawn. Bring them back, Azula. Both of them. Alive.”

“Yes, Father.”

And just like that, Ryo found himself signed up for a cross-country manhunt he didn’t want any part of, chasing down a brother and an uncle he had never even met.

He didn't wait for permission to turn around, already pivoting on his bare heels as he made his way toward the exit, following Azula as she rose fluidly from the floor.

The heavy oak doors were pulled open for them, and they stepped out into the hallway. The doors slammed shut behind them, immediately cutting off the suffocating heat and the oppressive, ego-drenched silence of the throne room. Ryo pulled at the collar of the silk robe, trying to get some air against his skin.

At least I’ll finally get out of this fucking palace again.